


It's Been a Long Old Road

by matchst_ck



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Bottom Mickey Milkovich, Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Domestic Mickey Milkovich, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Let them be happy beans, Love, M/M, Rimming, Top Ian Gallagher, True Love, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 08:43:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9171571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matchst_ck/pseuds/matchst_ck
Summary: "The first time Mickey gets rimmed is also the first time he sucks a cock.He wishes he’d let both things happen earlier, if he’s honest with himself."---Or 4 times Mickey Milkovich has sex, and one time he doesn't.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this came out of getting all annoyed at how not well my multichapter is going and also wanting to practice my sex scenes (I very rarely write them) as if I ever get anywhere with the multichapter, there will probably be one in there somewhere me thinks. Also, if you find any semblance of plot in this please let me know as I lost it somewhere along the way. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy, I'd love to know what you think :)

**I.**

The first time Mickey has a cock up his ass he’s not entirely sure what to make of it.

He’s in a back alley, pressed up against the brickwork of some dive downtown and he’s drunk. The guy fiddling around behind him taking his fucking time to get his pants down and slide a condom on doesn’t seem to care that as dirty as Mickey may be, he still looks as young as he is.

He thinks fifteen is old in his family to be losing his virginity.

“Come the fuck on man, I don’t got all night.” He breathes out, watching the air curl in front of him. It’s cold out and his ass is buck naked and as drunk as he may be, he definitely feels it when the guy shoves spit wet fingers up his ass.

Mickey soon learns that spit does pretty much fucking nothing, to ease the slide of a cock up there.

He punches the wall when he feels something thicker pushing in aimlessly. It. Fucking. Hurts. He wants this though, he’s thought about this, not quite like this but still. 

It’s quick, it hurts and whatever was left of Mickey’s erection has long since flagged. He drops a hand down to tug at his limp cock but nothing happens and the guys grunting is too off putting anyway. He waits it out, rethinking the decision but knowing it’s too late.

Eventually the guy groans, pulls out and he hears the slick of the condom being removed, sees it drop to the floor by his feet. He quickly pulls his jeans up, covering his bare skin. Turns his head to the side but doesn’t face him. 

“Thanks for fucking nothing.” Mickey spits, turns and walks off at speed. 

He’s holding his belt together, not yet done up. His ass is sore. He slides a hand down the back of his pants, brushes fingers over his asshole. He looks at his fingers, blood against the smudges of dirt. He buckles his belt, turning instead to head back towards the Kash & Grab.

He gets blackout drunk.

**II.**

Mickey hasn’t tried letting anyone fuck him in the ass since that night. He’s fucked girls, he’s fucked guys and he’s made adequate use of the stealthily purchased Ben-wa beads hidden deep in the recesses of his wardrobe but he’s never let anyone fuck _him._

Until today.

He’s not sure why he’s decided to let Gallagher fuck him, but suffice to say he didn’t fight overly hard when those freckled hands tugged his sweatpants off and pushed him down to the bed. Mickey is quick to roll over and press his face into his pillow, there’s no fucking way he’s doing this face to face. He feels a soft palm run over his ass cheek, a thumb dip into the crack and Gallagher’s breathless voice.

“Mickey.”

It sounds almost reverent and Mickey can’t take that, so he fidgets on the bed, wiggles until Gallagher’s hand drops away. “Get the fuck on with it firecrotch.” He’d seen that patch of bright, bushy pubic hair nestled around that fucking huge cock. 

The curtains, as they say, do indeed match the drapes.

He feels fingers brush the curve of his ass where it meets the back of his thighs but Gallagher doesn’t seem to be speeding this up any.

“Where’s your lube Mickey?” 

Mickey lifts his head, turns and raises an eyebrow at the ginger now looking around the room. “Don’t fucking have any---”

Gallagher interrupts, eyes wide. “We can’t do this without it Mickey. That’ll hurt. Don’t wanna do that.”

Mickey hears the unspoken _“to you”_ , chooses to ignore it. They’ve got to get a move on if they want to fuck before his dad wakes up, before Mandy gets home. “Some lotion, in the bathroom.” He grunts, nodding his head in the direction of the second door in the room. “Use it for my---” he almost tells Gallagher about the Ben-wa beads, stops himself. “Can use that.”

Gallagher’s in and out of the bathroom in a flash, lotion in hand. Mickey presses his face back into the pillow. Hears fingers being slicked before one presses into him. It feels good, not as good as the beads, not yet but still good. Gallagher’s quick but thorough and Mickey has to muffle any potential noises he might make into the pillow.

It isn’t long before he hears the crinkle of a condom wrapper, more obscene wet noises that make his cock twitch and then there’s the insistent press of Gallagher’s cock against his hole. Oh, Mickey thinks as he feels the head slide past his rim, oh this feels so different when there’s something to ease the entrance.

Gallagher’s breath is shaky and Mickey’s sure he hears a ‘tight’ breathed out somewhere. So he fucking should be, he thinks, before his bed partner starts up a bruising rhythm. He can’t think much about the headboard banging, or Gallagher’s breathy moans or of how hard he’s trying to keep quiet. Every slick, insistent push hits that bundles of nerves each time and it isn’t long before Mickey feels that delicious tension build up in his lower stomach, goes to grab his own leaking cock.

He’s too slow though, he feels Gallagher’s big hand wrap around him, feels him lean over to plaster himself against his back. 

“C’mon Mickey. Come for me. Come with me.” Gallagher’s breathes heavily against his ear, hips speeding up unsteadily.

And Mickey can’t help but do as he’s told. He feels his orgasm pulled from him, feels Gallagher’s hand twist at the head of his dick, milking every ounce from him. Feels that huge cock in his ass swell.

They collapse into a messy heap and all Mickey can think is that he hopes this happens again.

**III.**

The first time Mickey gets rimmed is also the first time he sucks a cock.

He wishes he’d let both things happen earlier, if he’s honest with himself.

They’re at Gallagher’s house, in Gallagher’s bed. He’d been coaxed into the house straight after work like a stray, suspicious dog under promises that the Gallagher clan were definitely out of the house, something about Fiona winning coupons at work for free pizza. They had at least a couple of hours.

He watches as Ian (it’s ok, he can call him that, but only in his head, can’t bring himself to say it out loud - too close, too familiar) brings up a couple of bottles of beer, unscrewing the caps before handing one over. Mickey gingerly seats himself on Ian’s bed as he rambles on about ROTC, about geometry theorems and trigonometry and just talks shit. Mickey pretends not to listen, but really sits absorbing every word.

His eyes dart around the room, boys clothes strewn everywhere, toys hanging around outside the crib. Ian’s silent now. Mickey downs half the beer, turns to look at him.

“I wanna try something.” Ian’s face is red. Mickey raises an eyebrow.

“Like what?” He knocks the neck of his bottle against Ian’s when he takes a few moments too long to answer. “Spit it out Gallagher.”

“Rimming?” Ian says it like it’s a question and Mickey feels his mouth pop open, lips slack in surprise. Ian must take this as him misunderstanding. “S’where I well---” Ian scratches the back of his neck. “Eat you out?” 

Ian’s face is red but at least he’s looking straight at Mickey. 

Mickey breathes. He’s thought about it before, Ian’s face pressed up against him, tongue pressing into places no tongue has ever been (and that tongue hasn’t even been in his mouth, where’s the irony in that.) But he wants it, god he wants it but it’s always been so… gay.

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. 

“Kay. S’your face Gallagher.” He snorts but he’s eager, so eager.

Ian grins and they both down the rest of their beers quick time. They undress themselves, clothes dropping to the floor. Ian’s hand comes up to brush against the back of Mickey’s neck and he doesn’t do anything to stop it. Ian’s hand is shaking. Either that or Mickey’s vibrating.

It must be the latter when Ian whispers “s’okay, s’okay.” He pushes Mickey towards the bed gently.

Mickey drops to his front, raises a knee for access. He feels Ian’s breath running down his spine, feels the ghost of lips against his skin. He groans, doesn’t bother to stifle it. He feels Ian’s fingers brush over his ass, grabbing and pulling his cheeks apart. He hears a soft noise from Ian’s throat, feels him blow across his opening. He shivers.

“Spread your legs a bit more. Please Mickey, a bit more.” Ian groans as Mickey complies. Feels teeth bite gently into the meat of his ass, making him twitch. He’s so fucking hard, wants Ian’s mouth on him so badly but he can’t help but speak. 

“I showered.” He blurts it out and he’s not sure why he needs to tell Ian this but he feels like he should. He doesn’t owe him anything but he wants Ian to know, _needs_ him to know. “I showered today. Before work.”

“That’s good Mickey, s’good.” Ian whispers.

And that’s it. Ian’s tongue comes out to sweep directly over Mickey’s hole, watches it twitch. Mickey moans loudly and Ian must take that as tacit permission because he proceeds to press his face into Mickey’s crack, sucking and licking like Mickey tastes like the most delicious fucking meal he’s ever had. 

Mickey can’t explain how good it feels. It feels wet and warm and when Ian sucks he does it hard and Mickey feels like he’s going to shoot in seconds. It admittedly takes a bit longer than that but soon he’s pushing his cock into the mattress for the friction, pushing back into Ian’s mouth and tongue and fingers, oh god there are fingers now and he comes so hard he see stars for a second.

When he can finally breathe more evenly he can feel Ian’s cock between his ass cheeks, not pushing into him but just rubbing between his cheeks, gliding against his still spasming opening to get himself off. He makes the decision then and there, propping himself up and turning beneath Ian.

He puts a hand to Ian’s chest, pushes him off and watches Ian’s brows draw together before he manages garbled words. “Lay down tough guy.”

Ian drops like a stone, onto his back and watches as Mickey straddles his thighs. He takes Ian’s cock in hand, watching the liquid ooze from the tip. He hears Ian moan, pressing up into his hand. Mickey brings a knee up, pushes it between Ian’s legs, parting them. 

Ian gets the hint quickly, letting Mickey kneel between his spread legs. Mickey drops his head, eyes falling away from Ian’s, face red. He’s never done this, has no idea if he’s going to be any good but he wants to taste, wants to feel the weight of Ian’s cock against his tongue, pressing against the back of his throat. 

Ian manages a mumbled “holy fucking shit,” as he realises what Mickey is about to do but it turns into a long, drawn out rumbling when Mickey fits his lips over the head of Ian’s cock. Mickey keeps his lips tight and his eyes open as he watches himself take more of Ian’s length into his mouth. He manages more than he expected, wraps his right hand around the rest. He lets his tongue come out, lapping up the taste of pre-come at the head, running over the prominent veins on Ian’s cock. Feels the heavy weight and the sheer taste of Ian’s skin, it’s musky and bitter and he can’t quite explain it but he swallows the taste like he can’t get enough.

He begins bobbing his head, finding that he can take more cock into his mouth but it makes him gag, makes his eyes water and he’s fairly certain he might be dribbling but he loves it. He feels Ian’s hand come down, fingers sifting through his hair and holding gently. He doesn’t force, or push but just goes with Mickeys’ motions. 

Mickey’s left hand has been resting on Ian’s stomach, feeling his breathing increase but he brings it down now, drifts it up his inner thigh as the soft ginger hairs below tickle his palm. His fingers find Ian’s balls, drifting over the coarser hair there, palm holding their weight. He rolls the balls in his hand, in time with his bobbing mouth and he hears Ian exhale on a grunt, feels his balls tense and tighten. 

“Not going to last much longer Mick. So good. You’re so fucking good, taking my cock.” Ian breathes, hips moving faster now. 

Mickey feels like he should take offence at being told how good a cocksucker he is but he can’t help but try and moan around Ian’s dick at the praise. He feels Ian tug at his hair, breathing sharply like he does right before he normally comes in Mickey’s ass. Mickey’s rhythm falters for a second, thinking over his options but he knows what he wants. He sucks harder, cheeks hollowed, eyes flicking up to watch Ian’s head throw back.

“Oh fuck, Mickey.” Ian bites his lip and Mickey feels the heat of his release before he tastes it. It’s bitter but he wants it, swallowing everything he can, rolling Ian’s balls in his hand to get the most out of him. 

He pulls back when Ian tugs his hair again, probably sensitive. Mickey’s throat feels a little sore, his mouth feels a little tight but he leans the side of his face against Ian’s hip, can’t help but let his tongue out to lap at the side of Ian’s softening cock for anything he might have missed. 

“Fuck, Mick.” Ian pets his hair and he lets him, just for a second. “That was amazing.” 

If Mickey’s face weren’t already red, it would be now. He finds himself hoisting his body up Ian’s, dropping down on top of him face to face. Their noses are touching and Mickey knows their lips would be touching if he only pressed forward a centimetre.

He feels Ian hold his breath. He wants to kiss him. He wants to be kissed. He rolls away, faces the wall.

He can’t.

**IV.**

Fucking with Yevgeny in the house has become somewhat of an art form. 

Ian’s moved in, or he practically has anyway. For all intents and purposes he lives in the Milkovich house now in this strange familial threesome with Svetlana. Mickey doesn’t want to think about how they all got here but if it means he gets to keep Ian, sleep with Ian and play happy families with Ian, he’s not going to question it. He’s happy.

Svetlana’s put Yevgeny down for a nap and headed out to the Rub & Tug and before the front door is even properly closed Mickey is pushing Ian towards the bedroom. Funnily enough, Ian doesn’t need that much coercing.

“You that desperate for me Mick?” Ian laughs as he heads towards the bed, pulling his shirt off as he goes. He’s shucking his pants next as Mickey clicks the door closed quietly. He has mind enough to turn the baby monitor on first before he wanders over to join Ian, clothes strewn haphazardly along the way.

“Yeah laugh it up gingerbread, you’ve been eye fucking me all morning.” Mickey grins, sliding his now naked body into Ian’s lap. Ian grins, hands sliding around Mickey’s waist, clasping at his lower back.

“Yeah, suppose I have.” He nips at Mickey’s chin, so Mickey raises his head to give him access to his neck. “Want you all the time.” Ian mumbles against his skin. 

Mickey smiles, turning his face into Ian’s temple and pressing a kiss to it. The kiss turns into a moan as he feels Ian’s fingers creeping down the crack of ass to rub dryly against him. His hands come up to cup Ian’s face as he brings his lips around to kiss him deeply, tongues curling against each other as Mickey begins to grind gently down into his boyfriends lap.

It isn’t much longer before Ian’s thrown him down on the bed, slicked up a couple of fingers and has them knuckle deep in his ass. Mickey’s biting his lip to stifle his moans but it’s for an entirely different reason than when they first started doing this and it makes Ian smile rather than frown.

“Don’t wake the kid, Mick,” Ian grins as a moan slips past the closure of Mickey’s lips.

“Fuck off Ian.” It’s not harsh, it comes out on more of a quiet laugh though quickly stifled when Ian slides into him.

Mickey’s legs come up to wrap around Ian’s waist as Ian tucks one of his long arms around Mickey’s lower back, lifting him. Their bodies are as close as they can get and Mickey tries not to remember a time when he would never have let this happen this way. He loves watching the expressions on Ian’s face, watching his eyes roll back when Mickey clenches, knowing that the lips he loves to kiss are right there for the taking. Mickey does that just now as they make love, every piece of them touching.

There’s only one moment that stifles the rhythmic thrusting that Ian’s got down, Mickey’s hips joining on every roll. They both freeze as they hear snuffling over the baby monitor, movement ceasing. Yevgeny snuffles once, twice, blows what sounds like a little raspberry spit bubble and then blessed silence. They both stare at the baby monitor for a moment before looking back at each other and laughing, quietly. 

“C’mon tough guy,” Mickey rolls his hips up, pulling a deep sound from Ian’s throat. He presses a wet kiss to Ian’s lips and whispers. “Finish what you started.”

**V.**

Wedding night sex is…

…really overrated.

In so far as they don’t _have_ any.

Ian had attempted to carry him over the threshold of the hotel room until Mickey had forcibly had to restrain him. “This isn’t even our house.” He’d snorted before slipping the card key in the door, removing his suit jacket on the way. 

They find themselves now laid out on the big bed in only their boxers and socks, an open bottle of complimentary champagne held in Mickey’s hand between them. _”S’not champagne, it’s that cheap stuff. Still good though.” Ian had taken a swig straight from the bottle. “Yeah, who needs glasses?” Mickey had snorted._

Mickey shakes the bottle now, finding it empty and manages to find the energy to lean up to drop it off on the bedside table. Laying back down he swings his left hand up, eyes catching on the ring now housed comfortably on his ring finger, just below the u in ‘up’. He watches Ian’s freckled hand come up to clasp his own, matching ring on a matching finger.

Mickey sighs but he’s content. So content. This is it. This is what he’s always wanted but never dared to hope he’d get. He pulls Ian’s hand down clasped with his own, rests them both above his own steadily beating heart.

“Ey,” he says quietly in the silence of the room. “You ever think back in the day, _this_ is where we’d be?” He doesn’t turn to face Ian. He’s not sure how the question will be answered but he’s curious.

“Disgustingly in love and having just got hitched?” Ian sighs through his nose softly, happily. “Yeah, I could have predicted that.”

Mickey turns to him then, rolling on his side so Ian does the same. They’re smiling at each other like absolute saps but Mickey couldn’t be happier. He’s still as Ian leans forward for a soft, wet kiss. He pulls back only an inch, rubs their noses together. 

“D’you think we have to consummate this on the _actual_ wedding night?” Ian raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t think there’s no steadfast rules Ian,” Mickey laughs. “Besides, I’m fucking tired man. Who knew getting married was so…”

“Exhausting,” Ian nodded in agreement but Mickey could see his eyes closing already. He shifts closer, arm wrapping around Ian’s waist.

“Exactly.” His fingers brush the soft skin of Ian’s back soothingly. “Sleep man, we can consummate all we want in the morning.”

Ian smiles but his eyes are closed. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Mickey’s eyes close too, the bedside lamp is on but he can’t be fucked to lean over and turn it off. It’s not their electricity bill anyway and fuck it, it’s his wedding night he can do what he wants.

“Love you, husband.” He hears Ian murmur sleepily.

“Sap.” He laughs, hand curling tighter around Ian’s waist, leg sliding between his to bring them even closer. “Love you too.”

Right as Ian’s breathing changes, as he’s just drifted off Mickey whispers.

“Husband.”

**Author's Note:**

> *Crawls back under my rock and bashes my head against this multichapter* :)  
> [tumblr :)](https://matchst-ck.tumblr.com/)


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